The Short List
by Michaela Will
Summary: “Gaara,’” Ruuta pulled up his height and lifted his chin with shoulders squared, “Are you seriously asking this council to consider you a candidate for the Godaime Kazekage?”


The Short List

By Michaela Will

The first task the council needed to address when they heard the news was to make a list. Two members were assigned to work on it. It was done quietly and fairly quickly given the circumstances. In the meantime the council drafted its surrender, bickering over semantics all the while. It was what any council, and its requisite elders, did best. They didn't talk about the list although it rattled in all their heads. It was put aside, temporarily. They recalled any ninja left in the field, scoured through the academy registries and begin the painful process of rebudgeting in the wake of the financial destruction that a major battle loss entailed. Two members of the council stayed in tight contact with the Konoha council, and then their Godaime Hokage when she was quickly instated. Three months in, after they finished doling out missions on a Tuesday afternoon, two heavily armed guards herded them into the official council room, shut the door, and locked it.

It was a short list. Ruuta stared at the six names on the scrap of paper and looked wistfully at the locked door. While none of the wind-burnt retired shinobi in the council room had it written plainly on their face, all knew it would be a long afternoon. Probably a long evening and all night too. Ruuta hoped that they would bring tea and dinner at sundown to break it up. Really, they would have to: they couldn't starve the council in the attempt to name a Kazekage.

It might help shorten the time, but not by much.

A ninja village could never be long without its Kage. The council had to determine a successor to the Yondaime Kazekage, and soon. That Kazekage had named no successor. The six names all represented achievement, notoriety, strength, skill, and knowledge. All were completely different, but exemplary ninja. Old Miyazako cleared her throat.

"It should be the Kodama." A feint, Ruuta wondered while pursing his lips. Miyazako would not want Kodama: the man's opinion of village alliances was not akin to hers. It was a reassuring gesture.

"Kodama is too much a field ninja." Countered Okita. His gnarled hands rested openly on the list in front of him. He slowly ran his hand over the page. "Kodama certainly has the most experience of all the choices, but I am concerned that he won't be able to bend his mind to the politics, or be able to sit still in the city. He won't have the same freedom to take field assignments and we remember what he was like when he was bedridden for months."

The silence hung for a moment. None of the other were ready to argue for or against any particular candidate. Miyazako's opening had failed whatever she had intended with it. It was several long minutes before someone spoke up.

"What about Ayame? She's more likely to settle into an office position." Another of the eldest councilors began, naming the oldest candidate. Suzune put Ayame, her old friend, forward every time there was an opening in leadership, again a reassuring move to suggest the normalcy of their list.

"She might be able to function in the politics well, and she knew the Hokage in her youth, didn't she?" Miyazako continued, picking up the strain. Tomi shook his head.

"They fought each other during their Chunin exams and the Hokage whipped her soundly. I don't think comparing her to any of the Leaf Sanin will do Suna justice."

"That's something of a problem: Her reputation is decent, but not on a Kage's level. I'm not sure her jutsu give her the credibility required for the position."

"Maybe Iemamura then? He's well known for his Hawk summons and Talon technique."

Ruuta began to tune them out, glad he told his wife not to wait up for him. He would never make it home tonight. This would move nowhere near fast enough. His eyes skimmed the six names again.

There was a fatal flaw with each and every candidate. The flaw was the same for each. None of the councilors spoke of the problem. Ruuta stared out the window as another name was brought up. It was pointless. The others engaged in the futile gesture, Ruuta refused to lower his intellect to the banter.

It wasn't until the list had been exhausted, twice, and the council sat in silence that the tea arrived. The sun started skimming the horizon as the door popped open. The young woman stayed only long enough to pass around cups and tea and leave a plate of food for each. Then the guards at the door firmly closed it behind her. Ruuta felt himself swallow hard as the tumblers clicked back into place.

They ate in silence. Near the end of it Ruuta took a sip of tea and cleared his throat. It was a gamble.

"What about the daughter?"

Miyazako's chopsticks dropped to her plate, her jaw hanging open. The other responses were as characteristic of shock.

"The daughter? The Yondaime's daughter?! She's, what, fifteen and a genin?! Absolutely impossible! She's nowhere near as qualified as the others!" Tomi ranted, his voice beginning the squeak with his affront, "What ridiculous rationale could you possibly provide for such a suggestion?" Ruuta put his cup down. It was true that while Temari had some skill and knowledge, her abilities were nothing like the other candidates. He didn't mention that. Her rank would need to be jumped up quickly: they'd have to buy the next Chunin exam for her if necessary. The machinations required were considerable, but possible. She did have the one thing all the others lacked. He didn't bother wrapping it up cutely.

"She is the oldest of them. With some coaching it's possible she could control him."

The others stared at him. He knew it was a highly implausible suggestion, but it brought the point of the matter to the table.

"Have you lost it, Ruuta? The older boy has a better chance of controlling him than the girl: she's petrified of him." Okita spoke softly, but surely, his voice suggesting he was taking the idea seriously. Ruuta restrained himself from rolling his eyes, since a quick look down the table found heads nodding.

"We're all petrified of him: the boy, the girl, even their jounin teacher is afraid of him. But that is the very problem we are looking to address, isn't it?" Ruuta opened his mouth to continue, but the door exploded open.

Sand burst in all directions and several people screeched, chairs flying back and china sent rattling across the table. The door hung defeated on its hinges as the sand shifted into the room gathering in the corners and under the table. Its wielder, arms crossed, stepped over the threshold, his siblings flanking him. There remained no sign of the guards who'd been assigned to keep the councilors in and everyone else out.

His cold pale eyes scanned the councilors and Ruuta was grateful that while he'd broken his cup, he'd not shinnied back to crouch against the wall like Miyazako and most of the council. She was loosing her touch. Okita and Tomi had also maintained their positions, but they were it. They waited.

"I heard in the market that you all are discussing the short list tonight." His voice rung with his annoyance and disdain dripped from his stance. Kankuro and Temari moved inside. The girl righted a chair and sat calmly, crossing one leg over the other before reaching for the teapot and a toppled cup. Kankuro leaned against the broken door.

"Let me see it." He imperially extended one hand. Tomi, who was seated closest, glared at the slip of a boy. The youth looked down his nose at his elder. Tomi slowly and steadily lifted a copy of the list into the boy's reach. He took it with surprising gentility, shaking sand off the sheet. Ruuta marked that the Yondaime would have snatched it.

He looked over the paper and Ruuta shared glances with Tomi and Okita. The cold eyes ruthlessly bore into them each in turn. The other councilors, clinging to the walls and cowering in the corners, were forgotten.

"Why am I not on here?" He asked, his voice dangerously low. The sand seethed back and forth along the floor. One of the other councilors whimpered. In strange counterpoint, Temari took a calm sip of tea from her cup. Kankuro studied his nails with disinterest. Ruuta watched the older boy hard, wondering why they didn't seem afraid of him anymore. After a moment, he exchanged a cautious glace with Tomi and Okita. Fine, he'd be the spokesman.

Start right.

"You're a genin." He threw the word out like an insult. The boy was unmoved.

"So?"

"You're not qualified." The boy had the audacity to smirk. It was still a cruel, humorless grin, but there was something different in it than those Ruuta had seen before.

"Are you implying my position as a genin is the only thing that disqualifies me?" Ruuta struggled not to become indignant. He spoke calmly, offhanded.

"It is a problem. Of course that's not the only thing. Qualification aside, we had no reason to believe that you had any inclination towards village leadership." He paused. The boy obliged him with another humorless smirk.

"I am."

"Good then," Ruuta smiled and continued. "Considering your age, we'll have plenty of time to groom you for such a position in the future. Your age, you see, is another problem. It is unprecedented in any ninja village to have a Kage in his teens."

"Unprecedented, not unallowed. Like the genin thing. There's no village code prohibiting either a teenager or a genin from being made Kage." His voice carried clearly through the silent room. The steady, even, and emotionless voice sounded strangely powerful.

Tomi and Okita looked over at Hayashi, cowering in the corner. He knew the ins and outs of every village code by heart. He also knew he was a spectacle: hair askew, glasses teetering on the ridge of his nose and tea dripping down his tunic. He brushed his hands down his shirt and straightened a little from the ball he'd curled up in.

"He is correct." His voice quavered, but not much. Ruuta was slow to comprehend the fullness of the implications the boy was making.

"Gaara,'" Ruuta pulled up his height and lifted his chin with shoulders squared, "Are you seriously asking this council to consider you a candidate for the Godaime Kazekage?" Tomi jumped, his mind only making the leap when it was spelled out. Ruuta's own mind was working ahead, trying to determine the idea's viability. If the boy was willing…

"You're clearly the bright one here, old Ruuta." The girl's voice startled him. Temari bounced her foot in the air rhythmically as she took another sip of tea. "In fact, I'm sure you understand that it's to our advantage to make him Kazekage. Everyone knows who he is since the Chunin Exams. No other Suna ninja has developed the same international notoriety from a single incident. That is power enough to get his name on your stupid short list."

Ruuta raised an eyebrow at the chit. She made a point that he hadn't considered.

"Knows who he is?" Tomi squeaked, "You mean know _what_ he is! That's the reason he's not on the short list!" He stabbed a copy of the page emphatically. Okita nodded sagely. "He… That…" Even Tomi's rage couldn't provide him ire enough to insult the boy directly. Gaara ignored the stutter.

"Shukaku is the evidence that the Yondaime Kazekage wanted me to succeed him in his office." His cold eyes moved across the room in a languid stroke. "The one true, written and coded requirement of a Kage is that he must be arguably, if not outright, the strongest ninja the village has to offer. I am such a ninja. Shukaku only makes it immutable." He turned to the door, walking with the slow grace of a monarch.

"I am not asking, Ruuta of the Sand, if you will consider me a candidate." He looked over his shoulder, meeting only Ruuta's gaze, "I am telling you I am the candidate."

He barely noticed Kankuro slip out the door behind his brother until the puppeteer bowed, just the right degree for that of a powerful man to another, and slammed the door shut. The bolts were thrown again. The older boy had fixed the door with his chakra strings while the others were occupied with younger. There was a collective sigh of relief. Ruuta allowed his hands to shakes as he ran them into his hair, quivering with nerves, mind racing over every word, those spoken and unspoken. He looked up to see Okita glaring at the chit.

Temari had not left with her brothers. She continued drinking her tea unconcernedly.

"What do you think you're doing here?" Okita growled. Temari put down the cup.

"Since my father's demise, there is no member of our house on the council. Since we are a founding family that has always held a position in this circle, I've decided to step forward and take on the responsibility."

"No," Miyazako spoke firmly, seating herself back at the table with an indignant huff. "The only vacancy is that of the Kage. There is no vacancy in the council and you have no seat at this table. You are no councilman. Remove yourself." Temari looked around the table and seeing agreement, sighed loudly.

"Very well, I suppose I'll just have to settle for being an emissary for my brother then." She calmly returned Miyazako's spiteful glare, "I can't leave you know, they've locked me in as well as you. You'll just have to finish with me here." She made it clear that it was more than just her presence they'd be dealing with.

No wonder the elder two weren't afraid anymore: they were in league with the boy. And while Gaara had the seat, it was clear his siblings supported his climb into it. Genins they may be for now, but that didn't mean they lacked power or brains. Or a head for political machinations.

The boy would have to be taught not to smirk. That was a small thing especially with his innate sense of authority. The girl would need to learn not to employ theatrics. That was more problematic, but the tendency could be useful, if directed appropriately and in the right office. The elder boy had played his role to a tee today, but there would be something. They'd all, or at least the siblings if they got the youngest confirmed to his office swiftly, have to pass the next Chunin exam but that wouldn't be hard. Ruuta hid a smile.

Maybe he would get to sleep in his own bed tonight.


End file.
